So Close, and Yet So Different

I'm genuinely shocked how much Wordsworth and Coleridge's opinions differed on what makes a good poem. You would think, seeing as how they were close friends, some overlap would have occurred (not unlike that of Tolkien and Lewis for fantasy). But, nope. They provide a really interesting contrast with one another. Wordsworth, from what I gather, was a very straightforward, direct person. He seems to me like he didn't have time for other people's nonsense, hence his harsh take on "fancy words" that are "unnecessary." Despite not being the biggest fan of poetry, I can at least see its appeal. And, I'll have to admit, Coleridge's The Rhime of the Ancient Mariner was really enjoyable. So much vivid imagery. That's where I think Coleridge's stance works better - poetry should be used to create these big pictures and ideas in your head. Wordsworth really only used it to describe everyday things in a different way. Rhime leaves you with questions at the end. It makes you want to read it again and again, much like a movie that has so many working parts (*COUGH*Inception*COUGH). At the end of the day, a little uncertainty and descriptive imagery goes a lot further in my mind than a straightforward poem.

EDIT: I commented on Abigail and Sophia's posts.

Comments

  1. Ha! I like your Inception reference. However, I'd argue the opposite of what you say. I think Wordsworth was the one whose head was up in the clouds--he's basically in puppy love with nature. Yes, his wording is more straightforward, but look at what his wording points to. Now, do the same with Coleridge. He, as a person, was incredibly straightforward and had a strong leaning towards the pessimistic view of life. In fact, he spent a good majority of his life addicted to opioids in order to cope with his view of life. (If you get a spare minute you should read his poem: "This Lime Tree Bower My Prison" or "Eolian Harp").

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  2. Seeing as I'm not a fanatic on poetry either, as you say I can find the positives in these pieces despite that. I loathe Blake, his style, voice, and writing in his poems are utter garbage in my opinion, but when reading Coleridge, the imagery does enthrall me. I don't feel as though I'm knocking my head against a wall trying to get something deeper out of a simplistic poem, but something it took me to reread five times over, each passage, in order to grasp the full concept and meaning.

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